


of writer's block and... uh... something

by ericawrites



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Mild Cursing, i have like. no tags for this, i might continue this idk, i self projected my writers block onto mj and it worked out better than i thought it would, shitty editing btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericawrites/pseuds/ericawrites
Summary: Michelle has been staring at the little flashing line on her empty document for forty five minutes now, and nothing has happened. No inspiration has come to her, she can’t think of how to word her essay properly, she doesn’t know what to talk about-She takes a deep breath. It’s just writer’s block. It’ll pass. She has to give it time.(Michelle has writer's block, but a certain bug- themed super hero is willing to help her out.)





	of writer's block and... uh... something

**Author's Note:**

> the title is a joke bc i couldnt think of a title so i just... put that lmao
> 
> if you guys want me to continue this let me know!! i'd be really willing to lmao
> 
> side note: i know next to nothing abt spiderman based off of comics or previous movies. this is solely based off of homecoming (and civil war??? ig) so dont expect me to know shit lmao

Michelle has been staring at the little flashing line on her empty document for forty five minutes now, and nothing has happened. No inspiration has come to her, she can’t think of how to word her essay properly, she doesn’t know what to talk about-

She takes a deep breath. It’s just writer’s block. It’ll pass. She has to give it time.

She’s taking a journalism class, and they have to write an essay on something that really inspires them and gets them moving, their reason for getting out of the bed. And yeah, Michelle has a lot of reasons, but none of them scream, “Write about me!”

Michelle can’t take much more of it, and glances out the window. The sun is still in the sky, though maybe it’s lowering. She’s not sure. With a sigh, she shuts her laptop, grabs her phone, keys and notebook, along with a pen and her headphones. She exits her room, thanks whatever deity’s up there that her parents have yet to come home, and exits the apartment. She locks it, and heads up to the roof.

She enjoys the breeze running through the curls that spill from her bun and fall in her face, before leaning heading a bit closer to the edge, but not close enough that she could fall. She sits, and plugs her headphones into her phone and puts them in her ears, and selects some wordless music to play as she tries to think.

And Michelle waits.

And waits.

She’s not sure how much time passes when she sees someone walk next to her, too closer to her, and she grumbles something about personal space under her breath then looks up. She swears loudly, scooting away.

Spider-Man is right next to her, and if not for the mask, she’s sure he would be grinning at her reaction. She thinks he says something, but she can’t hear him through the music, so she tilts her head. He taps the side of her head, and she gets the signal and takes off the headphones.

“Sorry, what?” She asks. She watches as the white eyes shrink, so he’s most likely glaring at her. It’s completely rude, but she won’t comment on it.

“I was asking if everything was okay. You don’t normally see people sitting on roofs unless they’re, uh, y’know.”

He doesn’t say anything else to provide context, but she gets it. Michelle has gotten good at reading inbetween the lines.

“I’m not going to throw myself off this building. Besides, I’m too far to do that.”

He nods, slow and thoughtful. “Can I sit?” he asks, pointing to the spot next to her. He’s slightly hesitant, she realizes.

Michelle blinks in surprise. She hadn’t expected that. She sees his eyes (seriously, can he see through them?) widen and he steps back slightly.

“Of course, you don't have to say yes and I can keep standing or just-”

“No!” She cuts off far too loudly, and winces. Way to go, MJ. “No, no no. You can sit.”

He nods and sits down next to her. He points to the empty page of her notebook, which is taunting her only slightly less than the blinking line of her equally empty document,

“Homework?” He asks. Michelle raises an eyebrow at him, allowing a small smile on her face.

“How’d you know?” She responds, almost teasing. Spider-Man scratches the back of his neck and it's so, achingly familiar.

“Lucky guess?”

Michelle sighs, and leans back on her hands. She looks out and takes in the view before speaking. “I’m taking a journalism class, and I need to write an essay on what gets me moving; what gets me out of my bed in the morning.”

Spider-Man crosses his arms. “Well, what does?”

Michelle shrugs. Her head feels too filled to come up with a good response. “Lots of things. But I can’t settle on one.”

“Well, what if you list a few and talk about them? Then just pick whichever one you’re more passionate about.”

Michelle absorbs his words, then leans forward to grab her notebook and pencil. “That might actually help. Thanks, Spidey.”

“Spidey?”

“Spider-Man’s takes too long to say.”

He snickers, and the sound is very, very familiar as it resonates through her head. She ignores that thought and starts to write, letting the words flow a bit easier now. She can feel Spider-Man lean closer to her, watching her write. It’s only a little unsettling.

“That all kinda relates towards helping people, don’t you think?” He speaks after she writes some stuff down.

Michelle stops and re-reads her words. There is a pattern, she realizes. She blows some of her curls out of her face, before brushing them back behind her ear.

“I guess I’ve always wanted to help people. Maybe not like how you do, but do the little things. Like donating stuff or, or-”

“Or attending a protest?” He offers, gesturing to the word “protesting” on her notebook. Michelle nods, and taps the end of her pencil against her notebook.

“Yeah, stuff like that. I’ve always cared about other people, always wanted to help. But, y’know, people always call heroes when they have an actual superpower, no offense,” He shrugs, and Michelle continues. “But like, that’s not it, y’know? Sure, they’ve stopped so much, and are a huge help, but I don’t have powers and I’m not very athletic. I’m just-” She gestures to herself. “Me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help out, right?”

Spider-Man lets out a little laugh, and nudges her with his elbow. The contact is warm, which is weird. “I think you just figured out your essay.”

Michelle pauses. Her mouth twitches, threatening to smile. “I guess I did. Thanks, Spider-Man.”

“I didn’t do too much. That was all on you.” He says, poking her arm. She swats at his hand, though he moves his hand away too fast for her to hit him.

They’re both silent after that, Michelle looking out over the building and letting her thoughts about her essay roam. Ideas filter in and out of her head, and then she settles on a dumb one, a reckless one, but a fantastic one at that. She’s kind of proud of it, and if Spider-Man wasn’t there, she’d probably pat herself on the back for it.

“Hey, you wouldn’t mind if I included you in my essay, right? Y’know, as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who sat and chatted with me for a few minutes and helped get my gears turning.”

“Um, sure! Yeah, you can- you can do that.” He stutters. “I don’t mind at all.”

Michelle breaks out into a grin. “Thanks. Meet me here tomorrow? My teacher will have read the essay by then.”

Spider-Man nods, and Michelle stands, her notebook and pencil in hand. She stretches, then checks to see that her keys and phone are pocketed, then turns to Spider-Man. She holds out her free hand, and he takes it. She pulls him up, then lets go of it.

“I’m Michelle, by the way.” She says, then starts to walk towards the exit to go back to her apartment. “Thanks again!”

“Uh, it was no problem. Good luck!” He says. She can hear him leave the roof as soon as she opens the door. She glances back and sees him swinging to the next building over. She turns back to head inside and work on her essay, feeling better than when she had first come up there.

-

“I must say, Miss Jones, this essay is, quite frankly, the best thing I’ve ever read from you, and all of your work is phenomenal. You really outdid yourself with this one. I mean, you got a superhero to talk to you.” Ms. Willow, her journalism teacher and head of the newspaper staff says, her eyes almost dissecting the words of the typed up essay that rests in her hands.

Michelle smiles, albeit nervously as she stands at her desk. Her grip on her notebook tightens slightly at the mention of the superhero. “I didn’t ask him or anything. He just saw me sitting on the roof and let me talk through writer's block.”

“Still, this is amazing. It’s beyond amazing. It’s so fantastic that I’m going to have to put it in the school newspaper.”

Michelle’s eyes widen in shock, and she brushes her loose curls out of her face. “I-I’m sorry, you’re going to put this in the school newspaper?” She asks.

“Do you not want me to?” Ms. Willow says, raising her eyebrows. Michelle shakes her head.

“N-no! I just wasn’t expecting it. You really think my work is good enough?”

Ms. Willow gently places the essay on her desk and folds her hands. She gives Michelle an intense look, and Michelle knows she’s being honest when she speaks.

“You are one of the brightest girls in my class, and in the whole school. Ever since I saw your work and your passion, I’ve wanted to put you on the school newspaper. Of course, I was never allowed, but this work,” she gently taps it. “This takes the cake, Michelle. I’m going to fight tooth and nail to get this in the school newspaper. I’m blown away by this.”

Michelle gapes, then quickly shuts her mouth. “Thank you, so much Ms. Willow. This is really my biggest fantasy come to life.” Ms. Willow chuckles.

“I’m glad. You’re free to go now.”

Michelle nods, and adjusts her hold on her bag and her journal. She heads to the door, and before opening it, faces her again.

“Seriously, thank you, so much. This means super important to me.” She gushes. Ms. Willow smiles.

“You have a burning passion, and a heart of gold, Michelle. Don’t ever lose it.”

Michelle nods, and exits the classroom. She brings her journal up to her mouth to hide her growing smile as she heads to the cafeteria. When she enters, she spots Peter and Ned talking between themselves. She makes her way over to them, and plops down in the seat across from Peter, dropping her bag and notebook. She rolls her sleeve up and holds her arm out to him, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

“Pinch me. Pinch me right now. Hell, slap me across the face. Tell me I’m not dreaming.” She babbles, hardly containing herself. Peter and Ned share a look. Ned nudges him, and Peter looks back at Michelle.

“Are you on something?” He asks. “‘Cause like, I don’t want to die anytime soon.”

Michelle shakes her head, her curls bouncing. “Just do it.”

He quickly pinches her, sharp and actually a lot more painful than what she was expecting. She winces, and the pain soon fades.

“Do it again. Do it five hundred times.” She demands.

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you?” Ned asks. Peter cautiously rolls Michelle’s sleeve down for her, but she doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Remember that essay I had to write for my journalism class?”

“Yeah, you were freaking out about it just yesterday.” Peter reminds her, and she waves a hand to both dismiss his comment and the memory of her scribbling on a piece of paper, only to hate it and crumble it up.

“Well, I got past my brutal writer's block and Ms. Willow loves it. She loves it so much that she’s going to make sure she gets it into the school newspaper.” Michelle says, gesturing as she talks. She can’t fight the smile that’s on her face, and she runs her hands through her hair.

“Oh my God, this is literally the happiest I’ve ever seen her.” Ned stage whispers. She looks back up in time to see Peter nodding, though there’s a faint smile.

“I’m not even mad at you for that, I’m so excited. This is big! Especially since only seniors and juniors can write in it. No one who isn’t those two has ever gotten their story in, and now I might. Me!” She continues, hands rapping against the table in excitement. “Oh my God, everyone is going to flip when they see what I’ve written.”

“What’d you write?” Ned asks, stealing some of Peter’s food. He makes no move to stop him, still watching Michelle. She takes a deep breath, and then chews on her lip, suddenly nervous as a realization dawns on her.

“Everyone’s going to flip when they see what I’ve written. Shit, this was a horrible idea.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Peter supplies. “I’m sure what you wrote is great.” Michelle shakes her head again, ignoring the compliment and the weird, fuzzy feeling that comes with it.

“No, I you don’t get it, I talked to Spider-Man and he said I could cite him in my work and I did, and now everyone’s going to see it. Fuck, they’re going to think I know his identity or something.”

“Do you?” Ned asks, and there’s something weird about his tone that’s slightly suspicious, and that only grows when Peter gives him a look that she can’t decipher, but Michelle has other things to worry about right now. She can overanalyze that look and tone later.

“No! I was just sitting on my roof trying to break through the writer’s block when he just showed up.” She says, throwing her hands up in the air. They fall back down, and she props her elbows on the table, and hides her face in her hands. “I’m screwed. I’m so fucking screwed.”

“Did you clarify that he just showed up in your essay?” Peter asks. Michelle looks at him through her fingers. He looks a little nervous, which is weird.

“Well yeah, obviously.” She says. “Of course I’m going to say that, it’s the truth. Then I just looked up a few articles on him and added in that.”

“So you essentially wrote on essay in Spider-Man.” Ned says. Michelle drops her hands and gives him a look, eyebrows furrowed and lips forming a scowl.

“No, I just cited him a couple times.”

“So what did you write about?” Ned asks again. Michelle sighs and grabs her notebook. She fumbles for the page she wrote her final draft on, then flips so they can read it.

She watches them carefully as they read it. They’re impressed, she can tell, but it doesn’t stop her from bouncing her leg nervously. She had spilled some of the more personal side to her, expressing her love and the want to help others out. It’s stuff she’s never really told anyone, just implied by protesting certain things and using her freedom of speech.

Ned leans back, both eyebrows raised in surprise. He doesn’t say anything, and instead looks at Peter, who has his lips slightly pursed as he reads. It looks like his face is slightly flushed, but she can’t really tell.

“I’m going to go ahead and say it, but that was fucking amazing.” Ned says. Peter’s head snaps up, eyes wide.

“Uh, y-yeah. What Ned said. This is seriously fantastic. You have nothing to worry about.” He says.

Their compliments wash over Michelle, and she relaxes a little. She allows herself to smile again, much smaller, though it feels more honest towards them. She looks down at the table and pulls at the sleeve of her jacket before looking back up at them.

“Thanks.”

-

That night, Michelle tells her parents she’ll be on the roof for about a half hour, then practically sprints up the stairs to reach the roof. When she gets there, Spider-Man isn’t there, but she walks to around where she sat yesterday. She sits down and waits for a few moments. She sits criss crossed and bounces one leg up and down against the cement roof.

She soon hears the tell-tale sound of him swinging over, and he approaches her, but she scrambles to her feet, surprising him. He takes a step back from her, but she’s too excited to care.

“I did incredible! My teacher loves it and she wants to put it in the school newspaper” Michelle says, a smile on her face.

“I’m guessing that’s good?” He says, though it sounds like a question. Michelle nods, not caring that there’s a slim chance that he already knows what she’s going to say.

“It’s beyond good! Only juniors and seniors can write and publish stuff for the school newspaper. No one else has ever done it!” Michelle says, probably a little too loud, but she can’t help it. She runs a hand through her hair, which she let down, and looks down at her feet.

“Seriously, thank you.” She says, and he scoffs.

“I did nothing. You just needed someone who was willing to listen to you.” He says.

“Well, the newspaper publishes on Friday, so if you meet me here then, say around six pm, then I’ll show you what I’ve written.” She offers. She can’t tell if he’s smiling but the eyes shift a little so she takes that as a smile of some sort. There’s a siren in the distance, and Michelle looks away briefly.

“I’ll take you up on that.” He says, getting her attention. He steps around her, gesturing to the general area of the siren. “I have to go, this was just a quick pit stop, but I’ll see you then, okay?”

She nods, and he salutes awkwardly, then aims and shoots a web at another building. He swings away, probably towards the source of the sirens. She watches, realization building inside her brain. She stands there, numb. It’s not until he’s long gone that she regains control over her mind and movements.

“See you soon.” She says, sounding timid and breathless.

-

That Friday, the school newspaper gets handed to her by her homeroom teacher when she walks in. There’s a smile on his face, and a twinkle in his eye.

“Congratulations, Michelle.” He says, and Michelle takes the newspaper excitedly.

“Which page?” She asks.

“Third.”

She flips through quickly, skimming through the words until her eyes land on her work. She reads it, though she has it memorized from staring at the word document the night before handing it in (and even after, if she’s being honest), and looks back up at the teacher.

“I’m very impressed, Miss Jones, but please try to keep your excitement contained until after homeroom. I know how much this means to you.” He says. He doesn’t but she nods anyways, and heads to her seat, reading it over and over again. 

A few other students come in chatting amongst themselves. Michelle doesn’t pay any attention to anyone until there’s a tap on her shoulder. She looks up and sees Peter and Ned, grinning at her expectantly. She points, and leans back as they look at it.

“This is, quite literally, the best day of my life.” She admits.

“I’m going to be honest, that’s a little sad, but this is pretty cool.” Ned comments. Peter smacks his arm gently, though Ned yelps and hits Peter back, who doesn’t even flinch.

“Seriously, this is amazing.” Peter says, standing upright. Michelle taps her fingers against the desk, looking back at what she’s written. She can’t quite believe she did that.

Yet here she is.

She might scream.

Instead, she bites her lip as the teacher tells everyone to take their seats. Which they all follow to do. He takes attendance, and once he’s done, the chatter slowly builds again.

“You’re going to make a great journalist someday.” Peter says almost immediately. Michelle smirks.

“You ever gonna stop complimenting me?” She teases, and he goes red while Ned starts to laugh, nudging Peter, whose stuttering for an answer. She can’t help but laugh too.

“I’m teasing,” She says, nudging him with her foot. He scowls, though it looks like more of a pout, his lip jutted out, face flushed, and arms crossed. His eyebrows are knit together, and wait- does he have freckles?

Michelle looks away as the bell rings, signaling for everyone to get to their first class. She picks the newspaper up and carefully folds it, and casts a slightly shy look back at Peter.

“Thanks.” She says, so quiet that she’s surprised he hears it. He offers her a smile, and gently knocks her arm with his. It send electricity up her arm, and her hearts skips a beat.

He walks away, snapping her out of her daze. Michelle takes a deep breath, then follows.

-

The rest of the day is a blur of juniors and seniors alike complimenting her work, as well as a few other students (and some teachers) who approach her and ask if she really talked to Spider-Man. She answers honestly, and and they nod and take it.

(One student asks if they’re dating, and Michelle loses it in the hallway, scaring a few other students.)

Ms. Willow talks to her after class, and compliments her on a job well done. Michelle thanks her profusely for getting her into the newspaper, and Ms. Willow laughs.

“Once they read your essay, they knew they had to put it in there. It was all you, Michelle.”

“Funny, that’s what Spider-Man said to me.” Michelle says, but she doesn’t mean to. Ms. Willow laughs again.

“Great minds think alike, I suppose.”

Michelle heads to lunch, head held high, and as soon as she enters, a few seniors (who are not in any journalism class or on the newspaper staff.) stop her.

“You’re Michelle, right?” One asks. Michelle nods.

“You really met Spider-Man?” Another asks. Another nod.

“Do you know who he is?”

“What? No. I respect his privacy.” She says, trying to step away.

“That’s good, though I’ve heard that journalism is a kill or be killed world. You should try to figure it out, or see if he’ll tell you.”

Michelle bites her lip, and has to resist looking at Peter.

“Maybe somethings are meant to stay a secret.” She says, and breaks free from the mini circle that has formed around her. She makes her way over to Peter and Ned and sits down.

“People are really impressed.” Peter says. Michelle nods.

“They weren’t on the newspaper staff though. Just a bunch of nosey dumbasses who don’t know what privacy or personal space is.” She spits.

“Ouch, what’d they say?” Ned asks.

“Just asked if I know who Spider-Man is, or if I could figure it out. Maybe- maybe this article was a mistake. Maybe I didn’t think this through.” Michelle says, looking at the newspaper that’s clutched in her hands. It’s open to her essay, obviously.

“Hey, don’t think like that.” Peter says, his voice soft and calming that it send butterflies through her stomach. “Look at me.”

She does, biting her lip. She searches his face and finds that there’s not any dishonesty in his features.

“This wasn’t a mistake, okay? You got your writing out there, and people are blown away by it. You’ve done some amazing work, MJ. Don’t listen to a couple of dumbasses who don’t know how to but out of other people’s business.” Peter reassures. Michelle looks down at her hands, and stops biting her lip. She looks back up at Peter and allows the barest of smiles to rest on her face.

“Thanks, Peter.”

-

Michelle stays closer to the middle of the building, waiting for Spider-Man and maybe, possibly, hiding in case anyone from school walks by. She checks her phone. It’s 5:55, and she’s nervous. She hates feeling nervous.

She wonders if she should tell him, then brushes it off. She’ll wait until the hype about her essay dies down. It won’t be long, right?

Right?

Michelle looks at it, the newspaper, in her hands. She’s open to the page, and re-reads it, if only to calm her nerves down slightly.

“I was asked to write about what gets me up in the morning, what makes me want to start the day. It took a while, but after a chat with the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, I think I know what it is. Spider-Man has done big things, yes, but no one ever really talks about the little things, such as stopping a few girls from being harassed, or helping an old lady find her way to a shop. It’s similar with us who aren’t like Spider-Man, or any of the Avengers for that matter.

I’ve always wanted to help people. It’s always been in my mind and in my heart to be the kindest person I can be, and do random acts of kindness every day. No one may know that this is what I do, but I do. I’m kind to people, though I can come off as blunt and rude. Helping people has always been what we hear about, though we don’t have to hear about it from just heroes.

Spider-Man decided to come and visit a girl, who was sitting on her roof of her apartment building with an empty page in front of her, visibly annoyed with herself. Instead of swinging away, he stopped and sat down with her, and allowed her to talk through an idea that was lodged in her head, but had now outlet. He didn’t have to talk to me, but he did anyways.

Being a hero to others is very important, but due to various events, people always project heroes as those who only do big stuff, and never the little stuff. Heroes are all around us. They’re our teachers, our parents, our guardians, or random people we come across. We can also be heroes for ourselves by treating our bodies and minds kindly.

This is what gets me moving. I want to be a hero to others and myself. I want to do my part in making the world a better place, whether I help someone who fell of their bike, or I go to a protest in the streets. I’m a hero, for myself and others. This is what I want to do with my future. This is who I am, and who I aspire to be.”

A low whistle rings out from above her, and Michelle nearly jumps out of her skin. She looks up and sees Spider-Man, reading over her shoulder.

“That’s really impressive, Michelle.”

“MJ.” She breathes. She immediately wants the building to swallow her up, but she pushes that feeling down as Spider-Man looks at her.

“What?”

“Call me MJ. And uh, thanks. It really means alot to me.” She says, looking back down. He sits down next to her, eyes on the newspaper, then on her. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie (it’s her go to for stress relief, and for some reason it helps) with the sleeves pulled over her hands slightly.

“Is there something bothering you?” He asks. Michelle sighs, and runs a hand through her hair. She lets go when she feels a knot there.

“People want to know who you are behind that mask, and they think I know. I’ve been asked several times today as to who you are, but I don’t know.” She answers. “I’m worried that, if this spreads, rumors can start and-”

Spider-Man cuts her off, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder. “If rumors start, they start. You and I can deal with that if it happens. Give it time to blow over. People have already had plenty of encounters with me. They know that I’m not some big shot superhero.”

Michelle huffs out a laugh. “I know, I know. I’m just overthinking this.”

He nods. “It happens to the best of us. Don’t bottle things up. I’m not gonna stick around for too long, because I have stuff to do, but you did a fantastic job. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, Spidey.”

“We’re having a heart to heart here, and you’re gonna call me Spidey?”

Michelle bursts into a small fit of giggles. “Of course I am.”

“You can’t tell, but I’m rolling my eyes.” He adds, then stands. He offers his hand out to her, and she takes it. He pulls her up effortlessly, and steps to the side. He’s still close to her, though she still feels warm, despite the lack of contact between them.

“I’ll see you around, MJ.” He says.

“See you.” She says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

Spider-Man nods and swings away, just like he’s done a few nights before. Michelle watches, holding the newspaper to her chest. She wets her lips, then heads back inside.

-

“You were right,” Michelle says at lunch. A week has passed, and people have stopped approaching her between class periods about her article and about Spider-Man. No one bothers looking over at her anymore, which she finds to be a huge relief.

“I’m going to assume that you’re not talking to me, and talking to Peter instead.” Ned says. Peter and Michelle both give him a look of confusion, and he puts his hands up defensively.

“In what universe would MJ ever admit I’m right?” Ned asks.

“He’s got a point.” Peter says.

“That means he’s right.” Michelle says, and points her pencil at Ned. “Your logic is flawed. Think it over while I talk to Peter.” She says. Ned rolls his eyes, but somewhat obliges, sneaking a quick look at Peter, almost as if he’s trying to as if he knows what she means.. Michelle turns back to Peter, who looks slightly nervous.

“What was I right about?” He asks.

“It all did blow over. I just needed to give it time.” She says, feeling a bit smug, watching him take in the weight of her words. That feeling grows as Peter’s eyes go wide with realization, and Ned looks up in confusion.

“When did he say that?” Ned asks.

“You know?” Peter says, ignoring Ned. Michelle snorts.

“Who do you think I am, Parker? Of course I know. You’re not really that subtle.” She counters.

“What do you know?” Ned asks, snapping his fingers in front of Peter’s face to snap him out of his daze.

“You tell me, guy in the chair.” She says, and picks her bag up. “I’m going to the bathroom. Later losers.”

Michelle stands and leaves them to whisper yell at each other. She snickers as she pushes the doors open, heading to the bathroom as she said. She laughs to herself as she imagines the conversation they’re having at the moment.

And once that blows over, she figures she’ll tell Peter that she likes him too.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my tumblr!! @jfcmcclain


End file.
